


I've Got  A Feeling

by monaboyd_archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-10
Updated: 2006-04-10
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monaboyd_archivist/pseuds/monaboyd_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To celebrate or not to celebrate?  That is the question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got  A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the Monaboyd.net Archive, which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years . To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile.  
> \--
> 
> Written for merrilytookish for the With Love Fic Love Letters Challenge.
> 
> Much love and thanks as always to my beta dani_grl4 for all the usual brilliance and hand-holding. She's the best.

It was all the Beatles’ fault, Billy thought. If it weren’t for that stupid, sodding _In My Life_ \- and didn’t Elijah think he was clever, slipping some Beatles music in that soppy little Valentine’s mix that he popped in during Feet that morning – Billy would never have found himself waxing so contemplative about such a commercialised and meaningless excuse for a holiday. And worse yet, about his _relationship_ with Dom.

He shuddered, and not from the evening breeze. Funny, but he had thought that was one bother he wouldn’t have with Dom. Oh, he’d known there’d be plenty to worry about: their irreplaceable friendship, their brilliant professional rapport…not getting sacked when Peter found out that Pippin was shagging Merry (and, not occasionally, the other way around). But _this_? This contemplation of their _relationship_ , less than a month in? Wondering if maybe he should have got Dom – what? Flowers? A card? Candy?

Camp little bugger might’ve liked all of those, come to think of it. Bollocks, what if Dom had got him something…

Fucking hell, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were _men_ , for fuck’s sake. They didn’t nance around with flowers and candlelight and – against his will, Billy suddenly remembered Edmund, his flatmate at drama school, sobbing broken-heartedly into his beer when his boyfriend forgot their anniversary and went fishing with some mates instead, after Edmund had gone to the trouble of getting reservations at a posh club none of them could afford. They’d broken up over it, he seemed to recall. And they’d been together _years_. Bugger.

On the bright side, Dom had shown no sign of remembering the date. In fact, much the opposite: he’d been sore as a bear when Billy woke him that morning (not that that was unusual), and he’d been distracted all day, busy giggling with Elijah when they were meant to be running lines, and not even taking the opportunity to sneak a cuddle or a feel over lunch. He’d been all but ignoring Billy all day, now that Billy thought of it. Maybe he really _was_ disappointed.

Then again…it had been a month. What does one _do_ after only a month together, regardless of the anatomical bits involved? He’d been lucky not to run into that mess with women; how the hell was he meant to know what to do now?

Would it be different if Dom were a girl…alright, _more_ of a girl, Billy amended with a tiny smile. Would he feel obliged to put on a big show, with declarations of love and such? After a _month_?

No, he’d feel like a hypocrite, that’s what. And he’d look like one, too. All that after less than a month with some bird? No chance.

Of course…Dom wasn’t some girl, now, was he? Dom was his best mate, and if he were honest with himself, this had been going on for longer than a month. Just because he hadn’t found Dom’s tongue down his throat (and a variety of even more enjoyable places shortly thereafter) until they finally saw each other again after the holiday break didn’t mean that this… _thing_ hadn’t been going on from the very start. Because it had.

And it was more than just their friendship, Billy was honest enough to admit that. Their friendship, deep and incredible as it was…well, that was deeply intertwined with…whatever else was between them, but it was _more_ than that. Billy had fancied his mate from the moment he found himself with an armful of Dom – and half-naked Dom, no less – that very first day in wardrobe. Something had clicked into place, and never clicked out again.

And maybe it was more than fancying. He swallowed, finding himself in depths he really hadn’t meant to explore on such a flimsy excuse. Perhaps…just possibly…he might actually _love_ Dom. Well no, he _did_ love Dom, but maybe there was more to it than deep friendship and a bit of a crush and an awful lot of lusting involved here.

If he did love Dom, really loved him in that “more than a mate, more than guy I’d like to shag senseless, more than this crass little holiday can really account for” sort of way…well, then that might just mean he was serious. And in that case…fuck, he really should’ve at least got a card.

Billy sighed, and stood up. The sky was still light, and would be for some time yet, but the hour was late. From the sound of things, Dom had stopped moving around and probably taken himself to bed, or possibly just collapsed on the couch in front of the Playstation. He’d almost certainly have noticed Billy wandering up the walk nearly an hour ago, no card or flowers in hand, and most likely had seen him sat on the stoop sometime since then.

Well, there was nothing for it. Maybe if he confessed his feelings to Dom, his mate would forgive him. Or maybe Dom would think he was saying it out of obligation, given the date and all. Or worse, maybe he wouldn’t return the sentiment, and would get uncomfortable, and where the fuck would they be then?

He trudged to the door, his heart in his throat. _Please don’t let me bugger this up._

The door was unlocked, and the lights were still on, but there was no sign of Dom. His heart sunk. It was in the kitchen that Billy found the envelope, stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet.

The handmade card was simple, with some artistically sketched flowers on the outside. It was lovely, in a very “Dom” sort of way. Billy swore under his breath. Why did Dom have to go and be so thoughtful?

With more than a little trepidation, he opened the card, wondering what his mate and lover might have to say. And this is what he read:

 

_Dear Billy,_

_Roses are red, violets are blue  
Now get your arse up to bed, ‘cos my balls are, too._

_Who says romance is dead?_

_All my heart (and other bits),_

_Dom_

_…PS, I Love You_

 

Billy felt a foolish grin spread across his face as relief flooded through him. He really was a wanker. In all of that needless anxiety, he’d forgotten one very important thing. No matter how serious he and Dom got, no matter how important or intense or meaningful – or meaning _less_ – the occasion or circumstances…it was still _Dom_. And Billy. Together.

Humming a Beatles tune, he went to find his Valentine.


End file.
